


Past

by yeaka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 02:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Victor finds Yuuri texting an old omega friend.





	Past

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri On Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Victor knows his omega’s awake half by the pale light that shines out into the hall, and half because the bond between them tells him as much—Yuuri’s still waiting for his alpha to come to bed with him. After a long jog with Makkachin through the cold streets of Hasetsu, Victor’s ready. He slips through the half-open door and shuts it behind him, while Yuuri perks up on the bed.

Victor greets Yuuri’s smile with a larger one. He slinks closer, shedding his jacket as he goes, then his shoes, but the shirt stays on, though he thumbs open his jeans—he wants that extra warmth to smother Yuuri with. Stretched out on his stomach, Yuuri lies in the center of the mattress. The blankets are kicked away, knees bent and feet aimless in the air, clad in knee-high socks that disappear under bunched-up slacks. Yuuri’s sweater dips down past one shoulder, and as soon as Victor’s on the bed, he bends to kiss it. Yuuri makes a pleased noise, and Victor stretches out over him, pinning him down, heavy and hot—Victor wraps his arms around his omega’s waist and nuzzles into Yuuri’s cheek, purring pleasantly: “Did you miss me?”

“Mm, always,” Yuuri hums. His eyes are already unfocused, and not because his glasses sit on the nightstand. The phone in his hands falls to the pillow, forgotten, but Victor peers over at it—at the delayed messages ricocheting between Yuuri and Phichit. Another alpha might growl over that, but Victor’s not the jealous type. He loves and trusts Yuuri completely, and he knows Yuuri adores him more than anything.

But he still teases as he licks a wet line across the shell of Yuuri’s ear: “You’re talking with another omega in heat? _Yuuri_...”

Yuuri groans before he answers, probably because Victor’s grinding their hips together, dragging the thick imprint of his cock along the round hump of Yuuri’s ass. The contents of Phichit’s messages couldn’t mean anything _but_ heat, and Yuuri’s answers are comforting, pleasant: a good omega helping another. He still insists as quickly as he can, “I-it’s not like that—we were just—”

“You were friends before me, I know,” Victor drawls. “I understand. Of course two unbound omegas are going to get up to all sorts of... _things_.” He draws the last word out as he shoves Yuuri down. He loves the way Yuuri’s plush rear feels against him, even through the layers of their clothes. Yuuri moans, fingers gripping the sheets. It fills Victor with thoughts of what Yuuri’s like when he has Phichit’s problem—when he’s flushed and panting and _begging_ for sex. Yuuri’s heats are utter heaven—at least for Victor. And the thought of him going unsatisfied, back before he had Victor to stuff him full, is...

Victor shivers, vividly picturing an unfulfilled Yuuri in his mind, gone full _Eros_ and trying to find satisfaction in _anything_ he could. Phichit’s just as bright and ripe—the probably sought solace in each other. It drives Victor to ask, “Did you ever play together?” He doesn’t have to specify what kind of play he means. But he kisses Yuuri’s throat anyway, one hand sliding down to cup Yuuri’s cock and the other stroking across Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri’s hard already—Victor can feel it straining for Victor’s palm.

Yuuri mumbles brokenly, “Uh... we... um... sometimes...”

“Tell me,” Victor purrs, because he wants to know it all. He wants to know about every orgasm Yuuri’s ever had, and he wants to top them. But an omega isn’t a threat, and he loves the thought of them _trying so hard_ to give each other what they couldn’t possibly: humping and rubbing and kissing and pleading, but only shaking harder than ever and still crying with a need for release. Yuuri lets out a little stifled sob now—he gets overwhelmed so _easily_ when Victor touches him.

Victor reaches up under his shirt, finding one nipple to twist and pinch while Yuuri whines. Then Victor presses, “ _Yuuri_...” And Yuuri hurriedly obeys.

“We did,” he admits, pausing only to moan and squirm in Victor’s grip. “B-but I—I thought of you the whole time—”

Victor pauses for a fraction of a second, startled—they didn’t know each other then, not _really_. Yuuri chokes: “Phichit was so nice; he never got mad when I said your name...” A new wave of _want_ spikes through Victor’s body, making him dizzy with lust—he rewards Yuuri by squeezing Yuuri’s clothed cock and biting into Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri cries out, “ _Victor!_ ”

Victor has half a mind to call Phichit up, put him on speakerphone, and listen in to Yuuri trying to get him off. But that’d be cruel to Phichit, who wouldn’t have the same release after. Maybe next time they’re at a competition together, he thinks, he’ll offer—assuming Yuuri would be willing to share—because Victor’s nice like that and wouldn’t mind sharing Yuuri—he’s too much a prize to hoard alone—and he’s also _Victor’s_ , completely and utterly, so a little fun here and there wouldn’t be any problem.

Victor breaks under that: the steady mantra of how much he just _loves_ this one person completely, and he snaps away from Yuuri’s body. He rises up on all fours, giving room for his order: “Turn around.”

Yuuri instantly does so, rolling clumsily over onto his back: the grace he carries over the ice forgotten in his frantic desire. Victor’s just as wild with it—he plunges down as soon as Yuuri’s in place, and this time he slams his mouth into his omega’s, thrusting his tongue between Yuuri’s lips and kissing away Yuuri’s eager moan.

The phone beeps over his head. Yuuri doesn’t even try to look at it—he’s so lost in Victor.

Victor still has a few scraps of his mind. He uses it to ask between kisses, “Want me to send Chris for him?”

Yuuri laughs. He rubs his nose against Victor’s and murmurs, “JJ’s already on the way.”

When Victor wrinkles his nose, Yuuri promises over a thick blush, “N-not that he ever came when I—”

But Victor knows and swoops in for another kiss, then claims his Yuuri like they’re drowning in heat, and only sex and love can save them.


End file.
